Andie in Wonderland

I don't know why it is but if you're a person living alone all during the year, whatever family you have suddenly feels sorry for you at Thanksgiving and wants to invite you for dinner.

I had been living alone for many years. I had a very nice luxury apartment in New York City overlooking the lights of the West Side and had been able to earn my living comfortably as a freelance writer. Nevertheless, my bother Dan, who lived out at the end of Long Island with his family, felt sorry for me and invited me to join them for Thanksgiving dinner. Naturally I felt obligated to accept and told him I would bring the wine.

But also I was looking forward to seeing Andie again. Andie was their daughter, now 19 and enrolled as a drama major at New York University. I had invited Andie to visit me at my apartment when she first started school at the age of 18, and that encounter was described in an earlier story here, "Caught in the Rain." As a result of that encounter, Andie and I had become "special friends" during most of her first school year. Now, she was in her second year, but I had seen her only once since the semester started.

The usual greetings were exchanged when I arrived at their home. Handing Dan the wine, I looked around. "Where's my favorite niece?" I asked.

"Oh she's up in that stupid treehouse of hers in the back yard," Dan's wife Gloria replied. "I don't know what she sees in that place. It's just a shack in a tree, but she says she likes it because it's nice and quiet so she can read. She even ran an outdoor extension up to it so she could have a space heater there."

I laughed. Dan had built the 12-foot square treehouse for Andie when she had been only 13, and she certainly had gotten a lot of use out of it over the years. It was her favorite place to be, apparently because of the privacy and quiet, away from her three brothers.

"Can I go and see her?" I asked.

"Of course. Tell her dinner will be at six, but she ought to be down here by five," Gloria replied.

I walked out through the kitchen door to the backyard. The treehouse had been built about 15 feet up in a large old chestnut tree. You had to get to it by climbing a rope ladder, and when the ladder was up, that was supposed to be an indication that Andie did not want any visitors. But the ladder was down now, so I climbed it.

The treehouse had a three-foot deck around it, so I crawled along the deck to the one door, which was sort of shut but partially ajar. I wanted to surprise her, so I kept quiet as I gently pushed it open.

But the surprise was on me. Her father had furnished her treehouse comfortably with some old furniture they had in the garage, so it had a small table with four chairs around it and a bottle of wine, two glasses and a box of Kleenex on top, a settee, a lamp, a heater and a magazine rack. Andie was lying face up on the settee and propped up with some large soft pillows. Her eyes were closed and a book was open but face down on her stomach. She appeared to be wearing some kind of a little girl white-and-blue pinafore. Then I remembered that it was her "Alice in Wonderland" outfit that her father had purchased for her 16th birthday, since Alice in Wonderland had been her favorite book. And with her shoulder-length natural blonde hair and her blue eyes, she really did look like an Alice in Wonderland. It seemed strange that she would be wearing the dress now, at the age of 19.

But what was more unexpected was the unusual activity in which she was engaged. The skirt of her fluffy white dress had been pulled up to her waist, her white panties with the blue ribbon trim had been pulled down to her ankles, and her slender forefinger was slowly sliding in and out of the little blonde tuft between her thighs. She was masturbating.

She had once told me on a visit to my apartment in New York that when she was younger, she often used to masturbate thinking of me—which I found to be very erotic. I wondered if she was thinking of me now?

Obviously this was one of life's rare voyeur moments to be enjoyed, so I remained as quiet as I could until she finished. And that was easy to tell: her body started trembling, and she moaned softly until she apparently came. Finally, after a minute, she reached over, took a Kleenex from the box and wiped herself. But she made no move to pull her panties up, so I thought it was time I made my move.

"That must be some book," I said, getting up and walking in.

She quickly sat up and swung her legs around to the floor. "Don't you ever knock?!" she asked indignantly.

"I didn't think it was necessary, and as it turned out, it afforded me the opportunity of watching one of the prettiest sights I've ever seen: Alice in Wonderland masturbating."

"Well at least I'm glad it was you rather than some other member of my family. It's not like you haven't seen me masturbate before," she said with a smile.

"You're right. But he's not here. So I guess I'll have to make do with you."

"I wouldn't mind that."

"The family wants me back in by five, so that doesn't leave us much time. So would you like to start off with a blowjob, Mr. Hatter?"

"Yes, I think that would be quite nice, Alice."

"Then stand up, come over here, and unzip your pants."

I stood up and did as she suggested. She took it out and put it in her mouth. She had the most talented swirling tongue I had ever known and a suction level equivalent to a good vacuum cleaner.

"I could easily come in your mouth," I groaned. "But I don't want to do that. I want to have the opportunity of fucking Alice in Wonderland, which is something I've never done before."

She took it out. "That's a shame. I was hoping you would come in my mouth so I also could play Little Miss Muffet—eating her curds and whey."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Always the actress," I said.

"Where do you want to do it?" she asked, looking around.

"Well, the settee looks a little short for the missionary position, and this table looks a little uncomfortable for your back, so how about I sit on the settee, and you straddle me."

"I can do that," she replied. "Should I take off all my clothes?"

"No, just your panties. I told you: I like the idea of fucking Alice in Wonderland."

Smiling, she lifted up her skirt, pushed her panties down to her white low-heel shoes, then kicked them off.

With my dick still standing at attention, I sat on the settee, and she moved over to straddle me. Gently I eased my cock in past her little blonde curls. "Now go up and down slowly until I come inside you," I suggested.

She did as I suggested, and closing my eyes, I did as I had promised, coming deep inside of her. She felt both warm and wet at the same time, and I could feel the muscles of her lower lips milking me of every drop. Finally, she leaned in and wrapped her arms about my neck. "I wish I was naked," she murmured, "Like I was in front of the window in your apartment—with all of New York watching us fuck. That was SO sexy."

"You're right about that. I'm getting another erection just thinking about it."

"Save it for tonight." Gently, she disengaged herself, and I could see that she had come as well.

"I would like that, and if you sneak into my bedroom tonight, I'd like to talk to Miss Muffet about her tuffet."

"I'm sure she would like that. But I guess we had better go in now. The bird you stuffed here is done."

"How do you know that?"

She lifted her skirt. "The juice is running down my leg."

And what a beautiful sight that was.

"I'm going to leave my panties here," she said. "Is that all right?"

"It's very all right."

During the Thanksgiving dinner, when no one else was noticing, Andie, on the other side of the table gave me a demonstration of how well she could lick and suck a drumstick. A little later, with the creamed onions, she smiled at me when some of it ran down her chin.

Several hours later, when Little Miss Muffet, clad in her white silk pajamas, came to my room, I enjoyed that little tuffet of hers for dessert.